


The Secret Forest

by TimeTravelingPirate



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Attempted Murder, Derek will do anything to protect Stiles, Gore, M/M, Panic Attacks, Slow Build, Stiles trusts Derek with his life, dark themes, scrifice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:26:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6656029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeTravelingPirate/pseuds/TimeTravelingPirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles is running for his life he meets a wolf and a man. There is a feeling he can't shake about them and why he never sees the two together. After he is nearly murdered, Stiles makes it his mission to figure out just who the stranger in the woods is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

His breath comes in heavy gasps. Sweat trickles down his brow and stings his eyes. Desperately he pats at his face, attempting to keep his vision on track and to keep moving forward. The blood rushes through his ears and surrounds him. Stiles has no clue how far he’s run nor how close _he_ is. Terror seizes his hearts. He wants nothing more than to succumb to the fear and panic that is starting to bubble inside him because the boy has no idea what is going on. The only thing he knows is he has to run, he has to flee and he has to survive. But with the klutz that he is and the uneven terrain of the forest floor, it is almost a losing battle for the boy. 

Fear pricks at his skin as the lumbering weight of a man much bigger than he follows after him. Stiles tries to swallow but his mouth is dry and he is panting. He needs to stop, he needs a rest but if he so much as takes a break that will mean his death.

A clearing is in sight just ahead. He is lost and has no idea how to escape the confines of the dark green foliage. The sun is hidden by the thick leaves, making it near impossible to see in the diminishing light. But the clearing should give him hope, right? So he angles his flimsy body in that direction and feels a sense of peace and calm before it all vanishes and pops in his face like a balloon.

An audible metallic click reaches his ears, piercing through like the shot of a gun. Stiles has no time to react as metal jaws clamp down around his ankle, mouth falling open in surprise and pain. No sound is able to escape his chapped lips as his body falls to the ground with a heavy thud. Without a shadow of a doubt, Stiles knows that he is done for now. There is no escaping the heavy metal of the steel trap that has him locked in place. His wiry frame begins to thrash around in a desperate attempt before he hears another click and something cold and evil grasps for his shoulder. 

Silent sobs shake him to the core as intense waves of rolling heat overcome his body. No matter which way he moves tendrils of fiery hot pain snake it’s way until he is bathed in it’s heated glow. He only has a moment to wallow in the sudden turn of events before the man that had been chasing him comes bustling through the woods with an evil grin on his face. He stands at approximately 6 feet with dark hair and meaty hands. Grasped in his fingers Stiles sees the glint of a blade. With no warning or time for small talk, his pursuer drops to his knees and presses the knife to the taunt skin that covers the boy’s stomach and slowly drags it across the flesh. It isn’t enough to cut but it is a warning of what is going to happen.

“Ple-please. Don’t. You don’t have to do this.” The boy stutters in a quivering voice. He doesn’t want to die. There is no reason for any of this to happen. 

The man holds a finger to his lips and shushes Stiles before he draws his arm back, preparing to strike. That is when they both hear it. A threatening growl. Stiles tries to think what other form of trouble could befall him when he catches sight of a sleek black wolf with ice blue eyes. He takes a moment to soak in the new factor, marveling at how graceful and beautiful the creature is. Stiles had no idea there were wolves in this part of the wood.

His attacker looks up and blinks. He is unfazed by the sudden appearance of this wolf, like he has dealt with things like this before. However, it does divert his attention away from Stiles who is left trembling in fear and pain. He tries not to move as he watches the two stand off. The man looks the wolf straight in the eye while the wolf looks right back at him. His teeth are bared and he is bunching himself up like he is getting ready to attack. A horrible snarl leaves his lips before he jumps forward and the man backs away slowly before an all out attack happens. Stiles is relieved that the wolf has taken care of one problem but now, how is Stiles supposed to free himself from these steel traps?

Stiles drifts in and out of consciousness before he is aware that there is something warm next to him. It is a struggle, but he finally manages to open his eyes. The wolf is back and he seems...sad. The boy’s brow furrows in confusion before the wolf begins to lick his face and then curl around him. Stiles doesn’t have a clue what is going on but at least he’s warm. That is the last thought he has before he drifts off.

xXx

It was like pushing though layers and layers of cloth before Stiles is finally able to surface to the land of the living. The first thing that hits him is the absence of fiery pain. The second is that he noticed he is laying against something soft. A couch, maybe? But why would he be on a couch? He is far away from home. Has this all been some sort of messed up dream? No.

Startled the rest of the way to consciousness, Stiles struggles to sit up and look around him, alarmed. It’s dark and he can’t see a thing. But he notes the scent of pine and wood and maybe the remnants of a fire. There are windows on all sides, giving him a 360 view of the woods. It’s a cabin. Odd.

He tosses the blanket off of him only to note the bandages that surround his foot. Rising, he tests his weight only to find he can’t really walk on it. Stiles’ sighs as he uses the arm of the couch to support his weight before putting it all on his good leg. If he can just use the wall as a crutch then he should be good. Albeit he can’t put weight on it, he is relieved to know that the pain is minimal. This throws him for a loop but he does not question it as he tries to find a light. Stiles is only half way across the room when he stiffens and notes the presence of another.

“Please don’t hurt me.” He calls softly, not knowing whose company he is in. For all he knows he could be back with the man that tried to kill him. 

“You need to rest.” The gruff voice floats back to him. 

Stiles blinks. “Please. If you’ll just get me to a main road or something I can get myself back.

“Don’t be an idiot. You need to rest until you can walk properly.”

The figure was soon in Stiles’ personal space guiding him back with firm but gentle hands. The texture and touch is not lost on the boy as he finds himself back on the couch quickly covered by blankets.

“There is a glass of water by your head. Rest and you should be okay in the morning.”

There is a beat of silence before Stiles opens his mouth. “Thanks.” he says softly. “Why are you helping me? Does that wolf belong to you?”

A rumbling sound comes from the figure that Stiles still has yet to picture. “You were being attacked, no doubt you would have ended up dead. No one deserves to die like that so I took care of the problem for you. And yes, you could say that the wolf belongs to me.”

It is a moment before those words sink in. What exactly is meant by ‘taken care of’? A shudder passes through the boy. He doesn’t want find out so he drifts back to sleep.

xXx

There is a plate of breakfast waiting for him when he wakes up. Again, Stiles has to work to figure out what happened. The memories come in patches and it takes no time at all for him to be working himself into a panic. Violently his heart beats against his chest and his lungs tighten like the air is being sucked from his body. Tightly his hands grip at the fabric of the the blanket before he is startled by the sudden appearance of a man. He is in loose fitting jeans, feet and chest bare as his hazel hues look on in a sort of panic. Jet black locks are disheveled as he bends down in front of the boy.

“What’s wrong?” There is a low urgency in his voice. His head snapped around as if looking for danger before returning his focus back on the boy.

“I- I just...All the memories, they’re coming back.” Stiles finally manages to spit out. “Wh-what happened?” His face is a mixture of wariness and fear.

“You got caught in a hunter's trap when that man came after you. He was going to kill you before I got there.”

Brown eyes blink several times working to process that information. “But I don’t remember seeing you.”

A flicker of panic seems to cross the other male's features before it is swallowed by as mask of composure. 

“I was some ways away and I sent my wolf to you.” He covers, waiting to see if the boy will accept this new information.

“Oh.” Is all he says in response as he looks at the plate before taking a few items off of it. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem. When you're done, I’ll help you get back to your car or whatever.”

“Okay.” His voice is quiet as he goes back to the food, closing in on himself, nibbling at the bacon and the eggs.

When Stiles finishes his food, as much as he can take, he slowly tries to rise from the couch. His limbs are stiff but the pain seems to be less than before which is odd to him because the traps went in pretty far. Maybe the guy who helped is was a medic? Obviously he knew about personal health since he had quite the attractive figure. Stiles scolds himself and shakes his head, muttering phrases like ‘bad Stiles’ and ‘he’s like way older than you’. Before he manages to make it to the front of the cabin and sees the man who is now clothed in a black t-shirt, jeans and boots. Not very apt for the woods but hey, to each their own, right?

“Ready?”

Stiles nods.

“Uh, I don’t even know your name.” He says, quietly.

“Derek. Derek Hale.” He responds.

“I’m Stiles.”

Stiles thinks he heard a small snort from the other male but ignores it as he looks behind Derek and sees a dirt bike.

“We’re riding that?” 

“Yeah.” Derek replies as he mounts his motor bike and waits for Stiles to join him. It’s better than walking.

With a silent huff he joins Derek.

The ride is short. Stiles thinks he had covered more ground when he had been running but they find his jeep near a main road.

“Think you can make it back to your home?”

“Yeah.” Stiles replies, slipping off the bike. “Thanks for the ride and, ya know, helping me.” His shoulders rise and fell as he gave a weak smile. Stiles still isn't too sure about everything that had happened in the past 24 hours but at least he is safe and back with his car. Hopefully he shouldn't hear or see from the man who tried to kill him again. 

“Stay out of trouble, okay?”

Stiles snorts. “No promises.”

A perplexed expression crosses Derek’s features before he hides it away.

“Thanks again...for everything.”

“Don’t mention it.”

And with that Derek speeds away back into the woods leaving Stiles with his jeep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles reveals apart of himself he's never told anyone just because he wants to say Thank You to Derek Hale.

Stiles finds it hard to so readily get back into the swing of things. His friends note the subtle shift in his attitude and how he talks less and thinks more. Scott, his roommate, tried to talk to him on more than one occasion about it but Stiles has shut down, not wanting to share the troubles that seem to follow him. Yeah, he is still freaked out about the psycho who had chased him into the woods. No, he didn’t go to the police. He should have, and maybe he will if the creep manages to show his face again but the boy cannot help as his thoughts continue to drift towards Derek Hale and the wolf. It’s like a poison under his skin, unable to shake no matter how much he claws at it.

There is no reason Stiles should be daydreaming this much about one guy in a little cabin in the woods. Derek Hale had saved his life. End of story. Or was it? Stiles couldn’t answer that question and it eventually drove him up a wall, resulting in a sudden burst of anger as he threw everything off his desk.

“Woah, man. Are you okay?” Scott came rushing in to see the papers and writing utensils littering the floor.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m sorry. Just a bit frustrated is all.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.” Scott replies, softly and sad that his best friend isn’t confiding in him. 

“Do you want me to help you pick up the stuff?”

“No, Scott. But thanks.” Stiles flashes a small smile before he stoops down to pick up the papers. Honestly, the logical thing would be for Stiles to trump back through the woods and offer Derek a proper thank you. It’s the least he could do, right?

So with his mind made up, Stiles begins to formulate a plan to show his gratitude towards Derek Hale.

xXx

“Come on Stiles, don’t back out now. Nothing is going to happen. You’re safe now. All you have to do is walk through the woods and find the cabin. Just give Derek the gift and be on your way. It’s all you have to do.”

Stiles felt his knees bounce rapidly as he sat huddled in his Jeep, brown hues darting from the poorly wrapped gift and back out the windshield. If he didn’t move soon, it was going to be dark and then he would surely get lost.

“Okay. Gonna do it.” He breaths at last as he open the door and slipping out, only to round on the passenger side to grasp for the gift. “Sure hope he likes it.” The boy mutters to himself as he starts in on the edge of the forest.

Stiles sure as hell wishes he had paid better attention to when Derek had given him a lift back. He thought that he was walking in the right direction but he was quickly finding just how confused and lost he really is. Now Stiles is pissed at himself for being so stupid.

“This was such a bad idea.” He says, speaking to no one. “I should have just googled his address and sent him a thank you note or something.” He rambles. “Now I’m here stuck in the godforsaken woods and probably going to end up sleeping the night here. Fuck it all.” His statement rings through the trees as he continues to trip over roots and bushes.

Nearly an hour passes and he is no closer to finding the cabin. There is a stream next to him and Stiles bends to drink from it. His body is sweaty and needs water. The air under the canopy of leaves is near stifling and he wishes that he had worn shorts instead of jeans. Just his luck.

Right as he bent up from the stream, he noted a patch of black fur. His heart rate picked up and hope began to rush through his system. Maybe it was the wolf from before. If Sdtiles follows the wolf then he is sure to find Derek’s cabin. Wasting no time he picks up the gift and hurries to follow the animal.

Knowing that it was being followed, Stiles soon finds himself face to face with the creature.

“Uh, Hi.” Stiles says awkwardly as he waves. For Christ sakes he is talking to a wolf. The thing can’t understand him.

“I got lost.” He continues before showing the package in hand. “I was looking for your master’s cabin so I could give him this. I wanted to say thanks for saving me.”

The wolf looks at him in contemplation before he snuffs through his snout and slowly approaches the boy.

Stiles’ body goes slightly rigid. He doesn’t know if the wolf is trained or not so he’s hoping he doesn’t lose a limb or die. Tentatively he holds out a hand and the wolf sniffs it before letting Stiles pat his head. A surge of warm circles his fingers and spreads up his arm before blushing across his chest. Stiles can’t help the dorky grin that forms on his lips as he enjoys a few quiet moments of peace before the wolf is tugging away, and going off into the woods.

It turns out Stiles wasn't that far from the cabin after all. The wolf walks around to the side after depositing Stiles at the front porch. Swallowing, he knocks twice before walking in. He is greeted by silence before he hears a rustling in the back. A few seconds later, Derek comes striding through, hair disheveled, chest and feet bare and jeans that hang loosely around his waist.

“Stiles. Right?” He questions, keeping some distance, arms crossed over his chest. “What are you doing here?”

The boy starts to clam up, sweat speckling his already stained brow.

“Uh, I ah, I um, wanted to say thank you, you know, for saving my life a few weeks ago.”

His brown hues dart around the room looking at anything but Derek. He really wishes the wolf would come back so he could pet it for comfort.

“But you already said thank you.”

“I know. But uh, I wanted to say a proper thanks.” A weak smile curves his lips upwards as he shoves his hands forward to give Derek the gift.

“It isn’t much but maybe you’ll like it.” A second later he added under his breath. “I hope.”

Derek huffs quietly to himself as he takes the gift and rips the paper off to reveal a plush wolf, a note card and a gift card to one of the local restaurants.

“I wasn't really sure what you give to someone for saving your life but I figured that would do.” Stiles mumbles as he rubs the back of his neck. He dares a look upwards and notes the RBF that Derek seems to posses. Stiles isn’t sure if the man actually like the gifts or not.

“You didn’t need to do this.” Derek finally says at last.

Stiles shrugs. 

There’s a brief moment of silence.

“Who.” Derek starts, unsure of himself. “Who was it that was chasing you in the woods?”

Again, Stiles heart rate picks up and beat frantically in his chest. He feels like his lungs are closing off as he shuts his eyes and works to breath. The subject is still touchy and Derek is the only who knows what Stiles has faced recently in his life.

When he opens his eyes a flicker of concern seems to cross Derek’s features and his body is positioned at an awkward angle like he was attempting to move forward but aborted in mid step. He adjust his weight accordingly.

“I can’t really explain it.” Stiles says at last.

“Are you not allowed to talk about it? Like you’re in a witness protection program?”

Stiles snorts. “No, nothing like that. It’s just, I don’t know how to describe it to you.”

“How do you mean?”

“I haven’t told anyone about him or it or whatever it is. Honestly, I’m surprised you saw him too.”

There is a moment of silence. Stiles is waiting to see if Derek will speak. When he doesn’t, he continues.

“At first I thought I was going crazy. That I was hallucinating. But then the physical stuff started happening and I wasn’t so convinced. Though I’ve read that when people hallucinate and received bodily harm it’s self inflicted. But I was damn sure I wasn’t doing it. So then I became convinced something or something was after me. He come and he goes, always with the knife in his hand wanting to hurt me, no doubt kill me. But he hasn’t done so yet.”

“I don’t understand.” Derek says, voice quiet.

“I don’t either. I thought he was a figment of my imagination but you proved that he isn’t. I’ve never told anyone because no one else has seen him.”

A slightly startled look crosses Derek’s features. Stiles notes it but doesn't question it.

“So that explains it.” Derek says.

“Explains what?”

“Well, I thought I had chased him off but there was this feeling that he was still lurking somewhere. I guess I didn’t get rid of him after all.”

“Just my luck.” Stiles says as his shoulders rise and fall.

“Like I said, I don’t know much. It all started happening a few months ago, I guess you could say the beginning of the semester. Nightmares, hallucinations, the feelings…”

“And why haven’t you told anyone?”

“My friends have enough on their plates and it it’s something I can handle, mostly. Nothing I’m not used to.”

That statement strikes Derek as odd and his eyes narrow.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve always been sort of the odd man out. I’m awkward, as spaz. It was worse in high school. But I’ve always been a bit off or different. As a kid I’d have horrible nightmares or see things I couldn’t explain. I tried telling my parents but they contribute it to an overactive imagination. So, I’ve just kept quiet about it.”

It’s only a moment before Stiles realises everything he’s just said. “Oh my God.” he mutters, placing his face in his hands. “You probably think I’m some psycho now. Honestly, I’ve never told anyone anything about this before and here I am, rambling to a complete stranger. God, I’m so embarrassed.” Heat flushes his cheeks.

“No, you don’t need to be.” Derek rushes, weight shifting like he wants to reach to the boy. He doesn’t.

“You can say that but I know how crazy I sound. Look, I’m sorry for bothering you and dumping my crazy life on you.”

“It’s fine.” Beat. “Thank you for these, though. I do like them.”

“No problem.” The boy gives a half hearted smile before he turns and walks out the door.

Derek stands looking at the three items in his possession before back up at Stiles’ retreating figure. Hazel hues narrow. Something is going on and he plans to figure out what.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mention of harm to a child and panic attacks

Weeks have passed since Stiles’ second encounter with Derek Hale. But like before, he still couldn’t manage to shake his thoughts of the man from his mind. It causes his brow to furrow as he sits at an outside table with Scott and Lydia. Their heads are bent over various books as they prepare for finals week which is just around the corner. Stiles has lost interest and finds himself too captivated by his thoughts.

“You got that look on your face again.” Lydia comments, glancing up before returning to her book.

“What do you mean?” Stiles asks.

“Like you get when something is troubling you or you’re about to go through a rough patch.” She shrugs. Of course she knows nothing of Stiles’ history and the dreams and the guy who tries to kill him but she is very perceptive and it reminds Stiles how much so.

“Just thinking.”

“Whatever you say.” She replies with a side of snark as she goes back to her studying. 

Stiles finds that he is incapable of thinking about school for the moment so he rises from his seat and starts to leave before calling over his shoulder, “I’m going to get a snack, you guys want anything?”

“Nah, I’m good man.” Scott replies. Lydia just huffs leaving the boy to shrug his shoulders and head to the little cafe that is just down the street.

When he is almost there, a sort of uneasy feeling starts to creep up on him. At first, he thinks that it’s the mystery man who wants to kill him but then, when he snaps his head around, he catches a flash of black. No. Something else but he doesn’t know what exactly. Shoving his hands in his pockets he begins to walk quicker.

Safety is found as he nearly rushes into the cafe and waits in line. However, he can’t help but look over his shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever or whatever it might be. Stiles seriously want all of this crazy psychic or dream or paranormal crap to stop because it is starting fray his nerves. He isn’t sure how much more of this he can handle. Although he had told Derek he was used to it, and he was, he had had enough.

“What can I get you sweetie?” The cashier smiles at him.

“Oh uh, can I just get a bag of chips, a Gatorade and a Snickers?”

“Sure thing. Anything else?”

“No thanks.” He gives her a small smile before producing his credit card and swiping it along the sensor. 

Munchies in hand, Stiles stands by a side table and looks out the window. Brown hues search in earnest for any signs of foul play that could be lurking behind every corner. Finding it looks clear, Stiles quickly makes his way back to his friends.

He is only there for maybe 10 minutes before he is startled by the sudden appearance of a figure right beside him, at the head of the table.

“Can I talk to you, Stiles?”

“Holy shit!” He exclaims, jumping and clinging to Scott like his life depends on it.

“Who are you?” Lydia snaps, eyeing the man.

“Derek, what are you doing here?”

Stiles is beyond surprised he is seeing the man from the woods. Honestly, Stiles never thought he would see him again. But obviously something caused him to leave the woods and come to the college.

“I ah, I found something and I thought you might like it. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Uh, okay.”

Derek turns to leave and Stiles is about to follow.

“Seriously, Stiles, you’re just going to go off with him? He’s like 10 years older than us. And how do you know him anyway?” Lydia hisses.

“Yeah, man, he looks like a creeper.”

“He’s not. Derek is cool, okay. I met him a couple of months ago. Look, I’ll be right back, okay?”

“If you end up in a ditch somewhere, don’t say we didn’t warn you.” Lydia responds.

“Whatever.” He replies, rolling his eye and going over towards Derek.

“What’s up?” Stiles questions as he looks Derek up and down.

“I did a little digging these past few weeks into what you were telling me.”

“Oh.” He replies, surprised. That was the last thing he was expecting. 

“I talked to a close contact of mine and described what you told me about the dreams and the man. At first he thought it sounded like a ghost. I know, paranormal and supernatural thing, don’t dismiss me yet. I know a lot of people don’t believe in that sort of thing but then he thought it could be something like a vengeful astral projection.”

Stiles looks at Derek blankly like he has lost his mind. Hues blink rapidly as his mouth falls slightly open. He notes how the man looks at him cautiously like he knows what he is saying can be perceived as crazy but knows it’s true.

“Okay.” Stiles manages to strangle out as he brow furrows. “If what you are saying is true, how the hell does something like that happen? Why would this ghost who isn’t a ghost come after me? I’m just a kid from the small town of Beacon Hills.”

As soon as the last words leave his lips it’s like a switch has gone off in Derek’s brain. The boy notices the sudden shift in features and emotions.

“What?” He says, wary that there is more to the story now since he revealed where he was from.

“Beacon Hills. You’re from Beacon Hills?”

“Yes. Why?” The boy demands.

“It’s an odd little town. I’m sure you’ve noticed a lot of strange things go on around there.”

“Yes.” Stiles is hesitant with his reply. “What exactly are you saying?”

Derek chews on his lower lip like he is debating on what he should say. His brow creases for just a moment before he exhales a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“Did you ever have a traumatic childhood incident or accident that happened to you?”

The boy’s heart skipped a beat. Why would Derek ask such a question? Did he know? Know more than Stiles did? 

“Ma-maybe.” He stammers. “Why do you want to know?”

“You have to tell me what happened Stiles and I may be able to help you.”

The boy blinks a sudden uneasy feeling washing over him. When he was a child something had happened in the woods that had scared the shit out of his parents but they never talked about it to him and the boy didn’t really remember much of what happened. It had been dark and a bit chilly. He may have been hurt but that was it. He thinks.

“I don’t really remember.”

Derek moves closer placing hands on either of Stiles’ shoulders. He can’t help but suck in a breath.

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice is low and almost warning. 

The boy doesn’t like the close proximity. He steals a quick glance over at his friends but they’ve rounded a corner to where they can’t be seen.

“Why is this so important?” The boy finally manages to spit out, voice quivering slightly as he looks up at Derek. The man’s hands are strong but not painful. There seems to be a honest look in his eyes like he indeed does want to help and possibly provide more answers than Stiles has been able to get.

“If I’m right about my suspicions, you’re in danger, Stiles. You have been for a long time. How you’ve managed to survive for so long is a miracle.”

Stiles swallows. There is a flight or fight war going on in his head and he really wants to run away because this conversation is really starting to make him feel grossly uncomfortable not to mention being crowded by the man who had saved him. He doesn’t know what to think or what to do. Then there was the sudden tightening in his chest. It was painful, like someone was gripping his heart. His lungs began to restrict the airflow and he was panicking. With huge brown eyes he looks at the male before him in alarm. As if realizing that something is wrong, Derek removes his hands quickly and looks slightly panicked himself.

“What’s wrong? Stiles, what’s happening?”

The boy clutched at his chest and worked to smooth the tension in his chest. He looks wide eyed at Derek trying to communicate, to tell him he needs help but he finds his legs buckling and thick arms gripping around his frame. Derek snaps his head around looking for the male that seems to threaten Stiles constantly but doesn’t see him. Then it clicks.

With agility Stiles didn’t know the man had, Derek moves himself to sit on the ground, Stiles in his lap. Tightly, Derek presses his chest against the boy’s back while a hand comes to press against his chest. 

“Breathe, Stiles. Breathe.” Derek says in a calm voice. Already his own heart is beating painfully in his chest, he just hopes that the boy can feel his breath and mimic on his own.

“Breathe in. Count to three. Breathe out.” The male whispers against Stiles ear.

Soon the tension that had wound up so tightly in Stiles’ body seems to relax and dissipate. More air is getting into Stiles lungs and he is leaning heavily against Derek. When he finally regains control of himself he doesn’t move. Neither does Derek. The boy feels as if he has been drained of all life and incapable of moving. His posture slouches and his head falls back resting on Derek’s shoulder. He works to regain some semblance of calm, enjoying the solid frame behind him. Derek is like a pillar to Stiles, a supporting beam to make sure he doesn’t cave. After what seems to be an eternity, the boy shifts to look at Derek. Their eyes lock for just a moment before he adverts amber gaze downward. 

“Thanks.” He whispers. “I’m sorry. It’s been awhile since I’ve had a panic attack that bad.”

“You don’t need to apologize, Stiles.” The wolf replies in an equally matched whisper, hands rubbing on the teen’s shoulders. “I’m sorry that I pressed so hard.”

“But you’re right though.” He finally admits. “Something did happen but it’s like a glimpse of a memory. I don’t really know what happened. Mom and dad never talked about it even when I questioned them.” His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “It’s like something, a wall or whatever is placed in front of that particular memory.”

Silence grips the pair. Stiles can feel Derek pressing his lips together as if in thought. They still haven’t moved from their spot on the ground.

“What do you think it is, then? This ghost thing or whatever?”

Derek is silent again and Stiles twists around to look at him. There is a deep furrow of his brow as his eyes glance at Stiles and then back down to the ground. That makes Stiles feel uneasy and he swallows.

“Derek?”

The older male refuses to look at Stiles and that makes him all the more antsy, shifting in his spot on the ground. Eventually, the boy shuffles so that he is on his knees looking at Derek, hands gripping his shoulders like his life depended on it. Similar to what had just happened before the amber hued boy had his panic attack.

“Derek.” It’s a desperate plea.

Hazel hues look up and swim with some emotion that Stiles can’t seem to fathom and makes him swallow again, followed by pink tongue darting out to lick his impossibly chapped lips.

“What do you know about the supernatural? Anything?”

“No.”

Derek sighs and runs a hand down his face.

“You never noticed anything strange in Beacon Hills while you lived there?”

Stiles shakes his head and then pauses.

“Well.” His voice is small as he thinks, trying to recount some memory. “I think my accident or whatever was weird. My dad is the sheriff there and I know he had a lot of hard cases that he wasn’t able to explain.”

“Did you ever see or feel anything?” Derek presses, looking earnest now.

Stiles chews on his lips. “I always liked the preserve. I was never able to explain why I always wanted to go there. I would wonder there when I was little. That’s when the thing happened and my parents freaked out. After that I wasn’t allowed to go there alone or at all. The woods were strictly off limits. But Scott and I would always sneak there when we got older.”

The boy takes the opportunity to study Derek’s features once more, noting the lines that seem to fan in worry. Hues continue to swim with an indescribable emotion that Stiles doesn’t know how to justify. Black locks spike up in an interesting but manicured manner. Stiles couldn’t explain it but the gravity of his situation is starting to weigh very heavily. Not to mention, the boy trusted Derek. He didn’t know why but he did; Inexplicably. 

“Beacon Hills used to be a big supernatural hub about 10 years ago. There was a family of werewolves who were known as the Beacon Hills pack. Way before their time, there were creatures known as druids who lived there. Like all things in nature there were good and bad. There had been a war in the area that left a lot of the landscape tarnished with blood and bodies.”

Stiles shivers as Derek recounts the tale of Beacon Hills.

“There was a sacred object there that the Druid and many supernatural creatures could draw power from. A special sort of tree. The druids used it mostly and some of the alpha wolves could use it because of the relationship they had with the druids. But the balance was upset and everything when to the shit with the war. After it happened, the tree died and was cut down, wood used for various things. Mostly magical boxes and stuff.”

Derek takes a breath, startled that he had confessed so much in a small amount of time.

Stiles looks torn between fear, awe, and skepticism.

“So wait, you’re telling me that werewolves and druids exist. They had some freaky battle that left a lot of people dead and there is a magic tree and it died.” His brow knits together as he finds it hard to comprehend.

“Yes.”

Stiles sits back on his heels as he stares at Derek for a very long time. Amber hues do not waver as the seem to search the male’s face. Derek remains still but slightly nerves as he sits under the scrutiny of the boy. Finally, he let’s out a breath and nods his head.

“I believe you.”

“Wha-?” Derek questions taken off guard and blinks.

“I believe you.”

“How? Why?”

“You don’t look like you’re lying and I’m guessing the reason you know so much is because you’re a werewolf. I bet you’re the one I found in the woods.”

Stiles studies Derek, a smirk on his face. The reaction of disbelief is one in a million as the wolf man struggles to compose himself.

“How’d you know?”

“How else would you know all of this information? I know you said you talked to someone but, I just figured.” Stiles gave a nonchalant roll of his shoulders.

“You’re right. I’m a werewolf. My family was the Beacon Hill’s pack.” There is no sense in hiding the truth now.

“But why did you tell me this story about the tree. What does it have to do with me?”

“I can’t say for certain but I think you're tied to it someone or it’s tied to you. I could give you a better answer if I knew about your accident.”

Stiles brows furrow. He could ask Scott. He might know. They never really talked about it before. His partner in crime and best friend since he was in diapers have never once disagreed about going into the woods, so maybe he didn’t know. It was all confusing and making Stiles’ head hurt.

“Okay.” He says, rising to his feet and extending a hand to help Derek up. “I might be able to find out more. Can I meet you at your place tomorrow?” 

The hopefulness on Stiles face is enough to cause Derek to blink in surprise as he gives a curt nod of his head before he draws out his phone.

“Just give me your number and let me know when you’re coming.”

The boy nodded as he relayed the digits before receiving a text from Derek with his number. After that, they part ways but not before an awkward silence where Stiles breaks it by saying “Thank you.” And Derek giving a small smile before walking away.

Stiles stands there a for a few more minutes before heading back to the table.

xXx

Scott is lounging on the couch, game controller in hand, one leg off the couch with his head lolling against the arm. Stiles moves in the kitchen, grabbing a few cans of pop and the bowl of popcorn. Tonight is moving night and Stiles also thinks it’s a good time to ask Scott about what happened to him as a child. Making himself comfy while shoving at Scott’s leg causing the dark haired to jump in potest, Stiles hands him a spare can of coke and places the popcorn between them. They're going to watch Inception.

After the initial introduction of the film is in place and Cobb is searching for a team, Stiles breaks the silence.

“Hey Scott, can I ask you something?”

His friend gives him a sidelong glance and nods his head before returning back to the movie.

“You know when we were little and I would always go into the woods.”

His friend stiffens.

“And there was that accident. Do you-do you know what happened? Mom and Dad never talked about it.”

The movie goes on and Scott is silent. Stiles fidgets with the hem of his hoodie, lip between his teeth. He isn’t sure if Scott will answer him but there is no reason for him not to say anything.

“Why are you asking about this now, Stiles?” Scott keeps his voice level.

The boy shrugs his shoulders. “It’s always been this nagging thought in the back of my head. All I know is that I’d have fun in the woods, you’d come along and then something happened. Bam, can’t go back.” He huffs and stares at Scott, waiting for answer. His friend is silence which annoys him, causing the boy’s brow to knit together.  
“Come on, Scott. Tell me. What happened?”

Stiles nearly chokes on air when he sees the expression on his best friends face. His stomach drops and he can’t breath. There has been only one time Stiles has seen that expression on Scott’s face and it had been after Stiles’ mother had died The amber hued boy figures that this is a serious event if it causes Scott to look like that. Stiles swallows.

“Scott.” He says this time, hoars.

“Stiles. There is a reason you parents never spoke about it. There is a reason I never speak about it. Are you sure you want to know?”

The silence stretches. Yes, Stiles does want to know but he can’t give a good explanation as to why because he hasn’t even told Scott about the dreams and the man and he is sure as hell that everything is connected. But again, Scott doesn’t know these things. Or does he? A complex expression flits across his face.

“Oh my God. You know, don’t you? You know what’s going on.”

At least Scott looks bewildered and blinks rapidly. “Stiles, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, Scott, you totally know what is going on right now and you haven’t said a damn thing about it.” He shakes his head angrily.

“Stiles. No, I don’t. Tell me, what is going on? What’s happened?”

He isn’t sure if he believes Scott. His best friend is holding something back from him. Maybe all of the answers his could ever want but the fool won't budge. It bugs the crap out of him.

“Damnit Scott. Tell me what the fuck happened in the forest?!”

Scott retreats in on himself and slouches his shoulders. Suddenly, all the anger that had been building up in Stiles deflates. It is rare that he gets this angry with his best friend.

“Sorry.” He whispers, running a hand down his face, trying to scrub away at his emotions. “I just need to know what happened, okay?”

There is a sigh from across the couch and Stiles steals a glance at his friend. Scott is going to tell him.

“I don’t even know where to begin. But you and I would always go out and play in the Preserve. There was this secret little spot we would go to and play games. It was this old tree stump that is as wide as you are tall. It was our favorite place to hang out. Well one day we stayed out too late, well into the evening. Late enough for our moms to come looking for us. Well, you uh you-” Scott stammers as he looks up from Stiles and then back to his hands that are ringing tightly together. Stiles is practically on top of Scott waiting in anticipation to know the rest of the story.

“I don’t know what happened, really. One second you were happy and bouncing around and the next thing I know is you’re screaming bloody murder about some guy trying to get at you and then just as soon as it happened it stopped and you were laying on top of the tree, skin ripped to ribbons and you were still. Deadly still with blood pouring from your body. It was covering the top of the tree.

“My mom and your mom must have heard the scream because they came bursting through the woods, your mom on the phone calling 911 before my mom even got to your body. She found me cradled around you trying to wake you up. But you weren’t moving and you weren’t breathing like you were dead. And I-” Scott falters at this point as tears start to stream down his face. Stiles can’t help but embrace his friend tightly, waiting for him to finish the story.

“I thought you were dead Stiles. Actually, I think you were dead, for a brief time but with some miracle they managed to bring you back. Our moms saved you, I think. Or you have a guardian angel.”

Stiles releases his friend and just stares at him. The boy isn’t entire sure how the hell he is supposed to process all of this information of what Scott had just told him. The biggest kicker for him, though, is the fact he has no recollection of this event. They say that people who suffer something traumatic manage to bury the event deep in their mind and can be triggered but Stiles doesn’t think that is the case for him. Someone or something has taken his memories. There are no basis to his claim but that is what he believes. Regardless, though, the feeling of unease is so strong he wants to vomit or run or something because his stomach is churning and his heart is racing. How would Derek react to what Stiles tells him? Will that answer the wolf’s questions? Will Stiles have answers? He doesn’t know. He can only hope.

They watch the rest of the movie in silence.

xXx

Derek can smell the emotion long before he hears the subtle beat of Stiles’ feet as he walks through the woods. Leaves crunch under his weight and the teen seems to be drowning in fear and horror and a crazy cocktail of emotions the wolf can’t even piece together. It makes his heart lurch to his throat and quickly shift into his wolf form as he bounds around the house and up the path before he sees Stiles. A bark leaves his lip as he watches the downcast face of the boy light up slightly.

“Hey Derek.” Stiles says as he bends down to rub the top of his head. Derek savors the warmth as he circles around Stiles’ legs, trying to comfort him. The need so powerful as he whines, picking up the duress coming from him. A sad little smile forms on his lip and Derek resists the urge to lick his face. Instead, the wolf finds the boy wrapping his arms around the wolf’s body and nosing his face in his neck. Stiles is hugging Derek and he is positively okay with this. Something must have happened to him and he was using Derek’s wolf as comfort. A swell of affection and pride rippled through the wolf’s chest as he snuggled up against the boy, allowing Stiles to pet his fur and hug him for as long as necessary.

Time is lost as they sit in the woods. Derek doesn’t move and nor does Stiles. It isn’t till the sun is starting it’s downwards slope that Stiles moves and his eyes are red. This time Derek can’t help it as he licks the boy’s face, tasting the salt on his tongue. It earns him a laugh and the wolf gleefully bounds around, circling the boy again before leading back to the cabin. Running around the edge, Derek shifts, throws on his pants and walks to greet Stiles at the front door.

“Hey.” Derek says quietly. “What’s wrong?”

He shrugs, coming in and taking a seat on the couch. Derek follows suit and finds a brown head leading on his shoulder. The wolf’s first human instinct is the flinch but he works to control himself. For Christ sakes he was just embraced as a wolf, how is being human different? It’s not. So, cautiously, Derek brings an arm to wrap about the boy’s shoulder.

“I figured out the answer to your questions.” He says at last. “Or whatever.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

Derek watches as Stiles takes a breath, licks his lips and then recounts the story Scott told him. Along the way, Derek can’t help the sinking feeling in his chest nor the tightening of his arms as things fall into place. He too is confused as to why Stiles has no memory of what happened but at least his theory may now be proven correct. So when Stiles is finished, their eyes lock and Derek just stares for a long time. He reads the fear, anger, confusing in those amber eyes and can’t help the pang in his chest. The wolf wants nothing more than to clear it all away but he doesn’t know how.

“So, what do you think?” Stiles asks.

A long moment passes between them before Derek formulates an answer. “I don’t know what attacked you but you became linked to the tree with your blood. The tree saw it as a blood sacrifice. That is why you see the guy coming after you. I don’t know why but I think he must be one of the people who died during the war. For some reason his spirit is trapped there and thinks that you can free him. I’ll have to do more research on it.”

The expression his is met with is disbelief and confusion.

“I don’t understand. Why me?” Stiles finally states.

“I don’t know but I promise you, Stiles. I’ll do everything in my power to figure out why this happened and how to stop it.”

Stiles smiles a small and sad smile but it is enough glimmer of hope for Derek.

“Can I stay here for a bit?” The teen asks after a moment, looking with pleading eyes at Derek.

“Yeah.” He offers a smile in return. “I’ll start calling my contacts and then I can make us dinner.”

“Okay.” 

Stiles curls up on the couch as Derek himself rises and walks out the front door, cell phone in hand.

 

“Derek. Pleasure to hear from you. I assume you have information for me.”

“Yes.” Derek replies, Deaton on the other end of the line.

“Not good, I take it.”

“No.” Derek ran a hand over his face before carding meaty digits through dark locks. “Stiles told me that he had been in an accident in the Preserve at the Nemeton. Something attacked him, killing him for a brief time. I assume that it was enough to spark life into the tree and now the restless spirits are tied to Stiles.”

The line is quiet for a long time and Derek paces, listening to the man on the other end. He knows not to push the doctor.

“It seems that one or all of the spirits who haven’t passed on think they can find freedom in Stiles death.”

Derek’s heart stops in his chest, surprised the man had been so forthcoming. The situation seems to be more dire than he originally thought that night the teen had come running through his sections of the woods.

“So what do we do?” 

“I don’t know if there is anything _to_ do.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Derek. This is old magic and not easily avoided. I’ll do some more research but I don’t think you’ll like the answer.”

The wolf growled on the other end before relenting. “Fine. Call me when you have something.”

“Goodbye, Derek.”

The wolf hangs up and works to control the flair of anger that had ignited in his chest. That was not an acceptable answer. He is not going to sit by and watch Stiles be tormented or possibly killed just so some old spirits who couldn’t find release from the Nemeton.

With a sigh he walked back into the house.

It took a moment to spot the teen. He has found the one mirror in the cabin and has his shirt lifted up. Derek’s brow furrows, wondering what it was the boy is looking for. It is then he spots the faint white lines that run down the length of his chest. Scars. There were five of them, like a claw. A werewolf claw. Derek’s skin prickles as he walks into the boy’s space. 

“They look like wolf claws.” 

The boy turns around startled, shirt sliding down and cheeks flushing.

“I guess the doctors did a good job because I can hardly see them. You can?”

Derek nods and taps the side of his head and blinks his eyes. “Wolf vision.”

“So it looks like wolf claws.”  
“Yes.”

“Can I see?”

Air whistles through Derek’s teeth, taken by surprise. He shifts his weight from foot to foot and looks down. It is rare that he beta shifts let alone shifts in front of anyone but Derek gives a small nod of his head as he holds his right hand outstretched and claws grow in place of his nails. He notes the sudden change in heartbeat from Stiles and then looks at his expression. It is a mix of wonder and slight fear. That is the last thing Derek wants. He doesn’t want Stiles to be afraid of him.

Unbeckoned, the boy lifts his shirt, revealing the smooth plane of his chest and the dark trial of hair that lead downwards. Moles dot the pale flesh. That was another reason it is hard to see the scars because the boy’s skin is so pale. 

Taking a breath, Derek presses the pads of his fingers against the warm flesh, feeling the boy twitch and then relax under his touch as his hand slides down, following the length of healed wounds until they tapered off near his hip. Stiles shudders and then their eyes lock. Derek’s heart is hammering in his chest and so is Stiles. It’s a moment before the wolf can gather his thoughts and withdraw his hand. Then the spell seems to break. 

The boy pushes his shirt down and flushes slightly, bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck. A small smile forms on Derek’s lips as he leads the way back to the couch.

“I talked with a friend of mine. He thinks that when you were attacked, your blood sparked life back into the tree; the Nemeton, awakening some or all of the spirits from the war. I don’t know why but they seem drawn to you. Deaton thinks that if they kill you then can finally be released.”

Derek watches the way Stiles stiffens and looks down. His shoulders slouch and he curls in on himself. It pains Derek and he soon finds himself wrapping the boy in a solid embrace. “I don’t want you to worry. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure nothing happens.”

Misty eyed, Stiles looks up at him and furrows his brow.

“Why?”

Derek is taken aback by the question but it’s simply a question of curiosity. But he doesn’t have an answer. Not a good one. He feels compelled, drawn to do it. There is no other explanation. “I don’t know.” He whispers. “But I know I need to.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Stiles leans his head into Derek’s chest and just melts into the embrace. He can feel the racking heart rate start to slow down, warmth soaking into the boy’s bones. Yes, Derek will do everything he can to help keep Stiles safe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can now follow me on tumblr for graphics and updates! http://beyondtheseah.tumblr.com

The semester finishes and Stiles finds himself more then distracted during exam period. He still manages to pull all As in his classes, just like Lydia but he is preoccupied with other thoughts. He and Scott haven't talk about the movie night and Stiles never elaborated on his accusation of Scott knowing more than really did. Not to mention the dreams were getting worse and worse, plaguing Stiles with sleepless nights. The teen finds himself at Derek's more and more then he was at his own apartment. His best friend never asks questions but Stiles know something was troubling Scott. Stiles never asks through.

Derek says that he will to back go Beacon Hills with Stiles. There is someone he wants him to talk to, to maybe get a better grapple on the whole Nemeton situation. They also run into the obstacle of the astral projection going full force on Stiles as soon as he enters the city limits. It is only logical. It is why Derek offers to go back with him in the first place. He claims it to be a homecoming of sorts. Stiles has no objections. There is a strange sort of comfort that falls over him when he's with Derek. Peace and tranquility embrace him and all the fears of being killed and dying fall to the wayside. It's why the teen asks Derek to ride with him back to down. Derek agrees.

As they draw closer to town, Stiles finds himself being wound up. The grip on his steering while is like a vice. Knuckles are bone white as he sits in tense silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Derek deliberate with himself as he if want's to reach out and take his hand. Stiles would have no problem with this but he doesn't voice the thought. He's keenly aware that the wolf next to him can pick up on the array of emotions that are swirling inside him.

The moment they cross the border, the pressure that has been filling his jeep seems to crack. Breath comes in short gasps and Stiles is shaking. His entire frame is shaking as he works to control his car. It is then that Derek takes his warm, calloused hand and places it over Stiles. With gentle guidance, the elder male steers the car to the side of the road, putting the blue jeep in park. Shifting in his seat, Derek takes both of the boy's trembling hands.

"Stiles. Look at me." His voice is soft.

The boy responds, looking on with wide brown eyes.

"Nothing is going to hurt you. Nothing will come after you. I promised I would protect you and I will. Do you trust me?"

Those words cause Stiles' breath to stop as he locks eyes with Derek. Time seems to stop and the only thing that matters in this world, in this car, is Stiles and Derek. He gives a jerky movement, a nod of his head, the tension slowly leaving his shoulders. Stiles is still wound up tight but Derek is doing something with his thumb. It feels like magic. Amber hues dart down to his the wolf's wide thumb running across the smooth skin of his hand. Stiles becomes lost it the movement and the feeling that before he knows what is happening, the panic attack is no longer a threat and he is relaxed. Mystified and bewildered, he looks at Derek with wide eyes, desperate for some form of explanation. He is met with a cheeky grin and a face that is extremely close to his. Stiles didn't realize how close they had drawn  until their breath started to mingle. His heart is beating quickly for a whole new reason now but he dares not think or even entertain the idea. It's a foolish thought. A schoolboy crush on his hero. That's all this sudden feeling in his chest is. Just a crush. But the way those sea foam eyes gaze into his very soul makes his heart skip beats. It makes the world shift and contort into a whole new shape that leaves Stiles confused. The impulse to lean forward, to close the gap between them is strong but fear is swarming around his head like flies. He doesn't act on impulse but simply looses himself in Derek's eyes. And then the spell is broken as a car rushes past, horn blaring and Stiles snaps out of his daze.

"Thank you." He whispers, turning his attention back on the road, driving till he reaches his house.

"You're more than welcome to stay with us unless...." His voice trails off. Derek hasn't mention much of his family except that they used to protect Beacon Hills. He thinks maybe the wolf would like to say with them instead.

"If you don't mind." He flashes an easy grin as he comes to stand behind Stiles, placing a hand on the small of his back, ushering him through the front door.

"You'll have to sleep on the couch." Stiles glances over his shoulder, offering a small smile in return as he tosses his things onto the kitchen table.

The sheriff is not home, no doubt still at work. That is going to be an awkward conversation if Stiles chooses to bring it up. A chill goes down his spine at the thought before he finds a warm body pressed against his back.  _Derek._  

"Sorry. I was just thinking of the conversation that I might have to have with my dad about all of this." A hand came to gesture around the room, signifying the whole ordeal that Stiles found himself in. 

"Well, provided that we get some answers, that are good, we may not have to tell him anything."

Stiles ponders this statement as he nods his head in agreement.

"What time did you say we were going to meet...?"

"Deaton. He said to come by after hous which I guess is...in 2 hours."

"Okay. Um, do you want to play a video game?" Stiles stands a bit awkwardly, fiddling with his hoodie as he ducks his head.

"Sure. I'd love to." 

That makes him smile as he leads Derek into the living room where they play Call of Duty.

 

xXx

"A veterinarian?" Stiles asks skeptical as he looks the warehouse type building. The sun has set long ago, casting the world in a dim yellow glow from the street lamps.

Derek laughs and nods his head, stepping out of the Jeep. "Yes. A veterinarian. But he's more then that. He's been working with my family since I can remember. He's what we call an emissary. A good druid, so to speak. But his spark is minimal. It's enough for the needs of our pack but it's nothing compared to those who fought in the war."

Stiles lips form an 'oh' shape of wonder before he follows Derek inside, jumping slightly at the tinkling bell into the dimly lit vet's office. There is a long wooden gate that is closed and Derek steps up to it but goes no further. It's a few moments more before a dark skinned man comes around the corner and offers a faint smile. "Derek." He says in a cool voice before turning his attention to Stiles. "And you must be Stiles. Derek has told me about your....predicament."

The teen can't help but shift slightly from foot to foot, brown orbs darting from Derek and back to the vet. "Uh. Yeah. That's me." He gives an awkward wave before the gate is pushed open and they are ushered back to the main room where a metal examination table is in the center. They three men gather around. Stiles bounces with nervous energy.

"What do you have for us, Deaton?" Derek asks.

The male is silent for a long moment. He seems to be contemplative as he settles his unwavering gaze on Stiles. Again, he shifts, uncomfortable, finding himself drawing closer to Derek as a shield.

"There are a couple of tests I would like to run. There is an idea I have as they  _why_ Stiles has been picked for the task of human sacrifice."

Of course, this caused the brown haired male to blanch before looking up with a worried gaze a Derek.

"Relax, Stiles. It's okay. I trust him. And it's not the type of tests you think." Derek then turns his attention back to Deaton. "You think he could be a spark."

"I do."

"What's a spark?" He asks, curious now.

"It's a druid." Deaton says calmly.

"I can't be a druid." Stiles plays the notion off. "I'm human. As human as they come. I'm all pale flesh and long limbs. I'm a spazz who goes to college. Not some supernatural druid thing."

Deaton's eyes seem to laugh at him and this cause the boy to sober up slightly. "We'll shall see."

The vet moves off to the left where he grabs a few items and places them in front of the teen. Each of the items rest on the metal slab and stare up at Stiles. His brow furrows as he looks at them. One is a bottle of black sand, an intricate looking stone, wooden staff and herbs.  _What the fuck is this?_ Stiles thinks to himself as he looks from the items and back up to Derek, questions in his brown orbs. The wolf just shrugs at him but Stiles has a feeling  Derek knows what this is. It makes Stiles narrow his eyes and turn back.

"Pick one." Deaton commands.

"For what?"

"Just pick. What are you drawn to?"

It's with a careful gaze that Stiles studies each object. The small glass bottle with a cork stopper filled with black sand looks interesting. If he looks at it a certain way, it seems to sparkle like there are diamonds in there. Curious. The stone is a multitude of black and blue colors. It's certainly eye catching for sure and he wants to reach out and examine it. But he refrains, feeling that if he touches it, the test will be over and he won't be able to continue looking at the other objects. His attention turns to the staff. It's as long as he is tall. Dark wood with symbols carved into it. Now this captures his gaze intently. Stiles bends closer to examine it. The staff seems to tell a story.  _The_ story of the battle with the druids it looks like. The teen really wants to look that one over but there is one more set of items to look at; herbs. A brow arches as he looks at them.  There is nothing special but he is certain there is a reason Deaton has displayed them all for him. As he thinks, a thought it drawn. Each of these items, they're connected. How? He's not sure but they are all connected. Items that belong to a druid? A way to preform magic? Anchors into the world of the supernatural?

Stiles sucks in a breath. "Just one?"

He looks up and notices the sudden twinkle in Deaton's brown eyes. Stiles has a feeling he has just confirmed the vet's assumption of him.

"What feels right?"

"All of them." He says simple.

"Interesting. Do you know what these are?"

"I'm assuming their talisman or tools of the trade for a druid."

"You are correct. Do you know what they do?"

Stiles is silent for a very long moment as he thinks things over. The staff. That is the anchor. A grounding element for magic. The stone, it could be an amplifier for magic, to extend the radius of it's reach. The herbs and bottle of sand are more confusing to Stiles as he furrows his brow. He isn't sure what those could be for. They're not as obvious. Unless...Unless they are counter measures against the supernatural. These items must be the standard druid 101 kit.

"The staff is an anchor, or rod. The stone is to amplify magic while the sand and herbs are for counter measures against supernatural creatures and I guess they have healing properties."

The room is silent as the teen looks from Derek to Deaton. They're both looking at him. Derek is a mixture of awe and wonder while Deaton is smug, like he knew all along. The term 'smug bastards' is running through Stiles head. A term he thinks he'll be calling the vet a lot.

"Correct. Now tell me, Stiles. How did you know that?"

Honestly, he has no idea. He has never been in touch with the supernatural side or druids or wolves until a few months ago. It was when he met Derek that things really turned upside down and twisted into something new all together.

"I don't know." He finally confesses, looking up again. "How did I know?"

"It's because you're a spark."

"How?" He asks, perplexed. Amber hues dart back and forth between Deaton and Derek he doesn't understand.

"Because you were born with the power. It only makes sense. I was born with it and so are you. Each pack needs and emissary. Someone to help guide them and be a diplomat with other packs. How do you think you found Derek?"

Stiles snots at this question. "Luck. I was running for my life when that ghost or whatever came chasing after me."

"Or maybe it was chasing you in the right direction."

This conclusion made Stiles think deeply. He'd never thought of it that way. Then again, he never thought himself to be a spark. This was all very confusing and hurt his brain.

"So how does this explain why those things are after me."

"Because you are a spark, you hold a certain amount of power. By your death and blood, that power is expelled or released. Like when the sun has a flare. There is so much energy and power it has to transform and be expelled. A sprit must have been nearby when you and Scott were playing in the words. It's anger and desperation was so great it was able to have have a tangible manifested state and thus tried to kill you. When you did not die completely....Actually, I'm not sure about that. Regardless, the spirit is seeking you out again, desperate to be freed and passed into the afterlife."

"And by killing me, that is the only way to do it?"

There was an uncomfortable silence. No one answered right away which furthered Stiles conclusion that the only way for these other druids or whatever to escape the pull of the Nemeton was to sacrifice himself. "That's bullshit. I'm not dying..again for some dead spirt to move on. No way. There has got to be another option."

Desperate hues look to Derek for answers. Begging him. He is wiling to do anything to escape this terrible fate. What he is met with is sad green eyes. Derek doesn't know what to do either but in that moment, wether he does or not, Stiles will trust him. Stiles will trust him with his life.

"We'll figure something out." Derek says softly. "I promise you, Stiles."

 


End file.
